


The Unexpected Holiday

by canadduh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cabin Fic, Cabins, Cas is in the closet (Literally), Christmas Presents, Dorks in Love, Holidays, Injured Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Original Character(s), Post-Case-Fic, Protective Dean Winchester, but no one knows, canon-verse, christmas trees, holiday fic, holiday fluff, injured cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 15:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17185205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadduh/pseuds/canadduh
Summary: After a hunt gone wrong, Dean and Cas enjoy an unexpected holiday.





	The Unexpected Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> My biggest thank you and a large amount of gratitude to [Maggiemaybe160](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160/pseuds/MaggieMaybe160) for beta-ing this work. It would have taken me a lot longer to finish if it wasn't for her prodding and fantastic ideas. Go read her fics! They're amazing (and heartbreaking but the kind that's worth it). 
> 
> You can join us on the [ ProfoundBond Discord ](https://discord.gg/GGbw2NP), a discord for all +18 Desitel shippers.

Dean grunted, forcing the door shut against the wind and leaning heavily against it. He and Cas had just managed to find the cabin as the light disappeared. The snow fell heavily and they had been walking for miles in it already.

Their hunt in Leavenworth, Washington had brought the hunter and angel into the woods nearly two days ago. The Wendigo had been surprisingly easy to catch and kill but neither of them had been expecting the rogue shifter with an angel blade on their trek back to the Impala.

Castiel’s groan had Dean pushing away from the door and stepping to the angel. The cut on his side was still bleeding and Dean grimaced at the way the pain tightened the lines around Cas’ eyes. A quick peek around the cabin showed a layer of dust that meant no one had been there recently.

Dean dropped his duffle bag beside him and pulled out a roll of bandages, using his free hand to feel Cas’ forehead, wincing at the radiating heat.

“This is gonna hurt,” Dean informed the angel, though he didn’t know if Cas could hear him. He pulled the angel’s shirt off his side, grateful yet again that he only wore the button ups without a layer under them.

Cas’ breath hitched when Dean started peeling off the soaked bandages. The hunter hushed the angel as he worked. In one of Cas’ more coherent moments, he had explained that the physical wound wouldn’t heal until the corporeal wound had healed. He was delirious with fever again before Dean could ask when the hell that was going to be.

When the bandages were changed, Dean made sure that Cas was comfortable before exploring the cabin. He whistled at his findings.

The cabin had an open floor plan. The front door lead straight into the living area which had a high ceiling and a silver chandelier that Dean _knew_ cost as much as the Impala had when his dad first bought it. There are two skylights on the ceiling from which Dean can only see the swirling of snow.

The fireplace was empty, cleared out of any ashes and Dean moved there first. He got a nice fire going and moved Cas to the dark sofa in front of it, covering the angel in a pile of blankets before scoping out the rest of their temporary home.

The walls of the cabin were a nice gray that offset the dark floors making the whole cabin feel more welcoming than log cabins that Dean was used to seeing. He couldn’t tell you what he was looking at but he knew it made him feel a little safer.

A quick perusal of the kitchen found only perishable foods but there was enough of them that Dean thought they could get by for a long while. Hopefully long enough for Cas to heal and get them out of there and back to Sam, who had a friggin cold of all things.

The small hallway lead to a surprisingly large bathroom with a Jacuzzi, state of the art shower, and double vanity. Dean was already forming plans to test out the Jacuzzi while he moved on to what had to be the master bedroom.

The ceiling was just as high as in the living room. The skylights mirroring the other ones exactly with a matching chandelier to boot. There was a king-sized bed, a white fur rug on the floor and French doors leading out onto a cozy looking balcony. Dean flopped onto the bed and was out within seconds. Not even having the energy left to take off his snow-covered boots.

Dean woke with a groan three hours later and went to check on Cas. The angel was still asleep on the couch but several of the blankets were now on the floor.

It was disconcerting to see the angel sleeping so soundly. Dean was used to Cas watching him sleep but not the other way around. He removed the rest of the blankets to reveal a shivering angel and Dean frowned at the blood that had soaked through not only the wrappings but the two remaining layers of blankets.

A man on a mission, Dean grabbed his duffle bag and brought it into the bedroom before searching for any alcohol that could be used as a disinfectant. He found some in a cabinet in the kitchen and brought the vodka with him. After setting up the thread and needle on the side table Dean went back for the angel.

With a grunt, Dean lifted the angel off the couch bridal style and carried the angel into the bedroom, laying him down on the towels he had laid out there. The angel groaned at the movement but there were no other signs of life from him except the slow bleeding of his side.

A few minutes and quick movements later Dean finally, _finally_ , had the wound closed. He was worried about the clear liquid now weeping from the angel’s side but there wasn’t much he could do other than wipe it off every few minutes.

Dean took his time cleaning up the mess he’d made and moved the sleeping angel to a clean spot on the bed, another towel below him. Once he was done with that he covered the angel in blankets and went to try out the Jacuzzi.

They had been in the cabin for two days before Cas had woken again. Dean had been reading one of the many novels in the living room when the hunter heard a gasped breath coming from the bedroom in the back.

He would deny that he ran to the room until his dying breath but nothing changed the fact that Dean was at Castiel’s bedside in seconds flat.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean soothed as he ran a hand through Cas’ sweat-drenched hair, “hey, you’re okay, Cas. I’m here.”

Cas’ eyes were darting around the room, his breaths labored and shallow. Dean gently pushed the angel back down so that he was resting against a pillow and smiled when the angel finally relaxed.

“Dean?” his voice was rough from lack of use and Dean winced before grabbing the water bottle he’d left on the side table and handing it to Cas.

“Don’t talk,” Dean commanded, “drink this and I’ll fill you in.”

Cas finished the water while Dean told him what had happened, the shifter and angel blade Cas remembered, but not the walk through the blizzard, nor finding the cabin the two currently inhabited.

“I need to change your stitches,” Dean noted after checking the angel over, “you must’ve pulled them when you woke up.

Cas nodded warily while Dean got to work. He removed the stitches as gently as he could before he used the vodka to disinfect the wound. Dean didn’t know if the angel could even get infections but he sure as hell didn’t want to risk it.

Once the stitches were in Dean got a bowl of water and a washcloth to clean Cas up with. The angel was covered in sweat and Dean knew he had to feel disgusting, but a shower was a no go until the wound healed up.

“What day is it?” Cas managed to ask when Dean set aside the bowl.

“The fifteenth,” Dean told him, “you’ve been out of it for just over three days, we’ve been at the cabin for just under two of those.”

“Okay,” the angel breathed, settling back into the pillows, “I think I sh-”

Castiel didn’t get to finish that thought before he was dead to the world.

Sitting down, Dean breathed out a shuddering sigh. He felt the tension drain from his shoulders and let himself relax for the first time in days.

Cas was going to be okay.

Dean became intimately familiar with both the cabin and the woods surrounding it. While Cas was out of it Dean had set up wardings around the perimeter as well as within the cabin. He had lined the windows with the only salt in the cabin— only mildly upset there was none left to cook with.

He had taken the time to clean all the gear and wash the clothes in the fancy washer and dryer in the bathroom. He was happy to find a stash of money - that he only felt a twinge of guilt over pocketing - just behind the alcohol in the cupboard. Which he’d also gotten intimately familiar with when the exhaustion couldn’t chase away the nightmares.

When he’d found the meat freezer in the basement on the third day Dean had felt like he’d won the lottery.

On the fourth day, Cas’ fever had skyrocketed and Dean had been tempted to pray to someone who wasn’t the angel on the bed for the first time in years. He kept the angel as cool as possible, running towels under ice-cold water only for them to dry up seconds after contact. Lugging in buckets full of snow only for them to melt on contact.

Dean had been considering just taking the angel out into the snow when the fever broke one day later.

When Dean had gone from _what-the-fuck-am-I-going-to-do_ levels of worry to _god-dammit-Cas-get-better-now levels_ of worry he had crashed and slept for twelve hours straight, nightmare free.

On the fifth day, Dean finally cleaned the towels and sheets he’d been using to keep Cas clean and dry. He was down to the last few of each and was thoroughly impressed by how well stocked the cabin was.

In between taking care of Cas and his own basic functions, Dean read a copy of Slaughterhouse-Five that he kept at the bottom of his bag in a waterproof case. He had bought the copy years ago and it was one of the only possessions he owned that had managed to survive unscathed. He’d say it was cursed if curses could bring good to Dean’s life.

By the sixth day, Dean had finished Slaughterhouse-Five and was bored out of his mind. He had been rummaging through the workshop in the basement when he’d come across a woodcarving kit.

Dean didn’t like thinking about high school at all but he did have to admit that woodshop, no matter which small town school he and Sammy were at, had always managed to be one of his favorite classes. He’d gotten good at making trinkets and while he didn’t get to make anything for fun very often, all of the stakes they had in the trunk of the Impala were handmade.

 

Cas’ fever broke early morning on the seventh day and Dean could see the irony in that. The angel was still sleeping but something in Dean relaxed at the feeling of cool skin, even if it was disconcerting to feel warm breaths on his wrist when he’d wiped the sweat from Cas’ face.

That evening Dean discovered the small attic area over the bathroom and found a box full of Christmas decorations— including a fake tree. After some consideration, Dean decided to put up the decorations in the living room, thinking it would be a nice surprise for Cas when he was able to get out of bed. And a good distraction for him in the meantime.

Once the room was appropriately decked out, Dean sat down with his project and continued carving into it. He’d had the design he was working on floating in the back of his head for years and somehow he knew that this was the perfect time for it.

Castiel slept until late the next morning and when he woke up Dean was just about to start in on his trinket again. He heard the angel call for him and smiled in relief, grabbing a bottle of water on his way to the room.

“How you doing, Sleeping Beauty?” Dean teased after Cas had finished the water.

The angel's brows furrowed and his head tilted to the side, “I don’t see what a cartoon has to-” Dean grinned as understanding lit up the Cas’ eyes, “oh, I get it. I’m doing much better, Dean. Thank you. Although I do not see myself flying for another week, at least.”

Dean nodded, “that’s okay, buddy, take the time you need.”

“What about Sam?”Castiel asked, his rough voice doing something to settle Dean’s nerves even further. “Have you been able to contact him?

Dean shook his head, “still no service. I wanted to try heading a bit away from the cabin but I didn’t want to leave the protective circle I’ve got going here. Especially not when friggin shifters are getting their hands on friggin angel blades.”

“That makes sense,” Cas ventured with a frown, “what happened to the angel blade?”

Dean maintained eye contact for a few seconds before dropping his eyes to the ground. He frowned when he looked up to see Cas’ raised brow.

“Dean,” Cas said, drawing his name out.

“The shifter is dead,” Dean reassured, “I made damn sure of that. But I forgot about the blade in my rush to make sure you were safe.”

“Dean,” Cas hissed, shifting to stand but groaning when it pulled at the stitches.

Dean pulled his hand down over his face with a sigh, hiding his grin.

“I’m kidding, Cas,” Dean said after a moment, shaking with laughter, “it’s in my bag in the living room.”

“Assbutt,” Cas grumbled after a moment, “you…  assbutt.”

Dean smirked at the angel, “it’s been said. Now, do you need anything or are you gonna pout like an angry kitten for the rest of the day?”

“I am not an angry kitten, Dean,” Cas argued, “if anything I’d be a leopard.”

The hunter laughed, smiling fondly at the angel. He’d never tell anyone this but the last week had been one of the most stressful of his life, and that was including both Hell and Purgatory. Being the sole person responsible for an angel’s life was all kinds of nerve-racking.

It was good to laugh.

“Sure,” Dean agreed with a grin and a wink, “but seriously, you need anything?”

“More sleep would be good,” Castiel sighed, leaning back against the pillow, “and some water when I wake.”

“Sure thing, Angel,” Dean assured with a grin, but Cas was already asleep.

Now that Cas was on the mend, he and Dean spent a lot more time in the living room than they did in the bedroom. Cas had been suspicious of the holiday decorations but Dean had assured him that he was the one who put them up.

“I was bored,” Dean argued when Cas looked at him with that damned eyebrow.

“You know you have to take it all down, right?” Cas demanded

Dean pouted, “or I could just leave them up.” Silence. “Fine.”

They spent much of the day relaxing on the couch; Cas reading one of the crime novels that were on the bookshelf while Dean continued his woodwork, not allowing Cas to look at it.

“I didn’t know you whittled,” Cas remarked sometime later.

Dean felt his cheeks warm but shrugged it off, “‘s something I picked up to pass the time ‘s all.”

“For someone as cocky as you can be you are surprisingly modest at times.”

“Well, you’re... modest... at times,” Dean threw back haltingly before biting his lip and closing his eyes, “not what I wanted to say.”

Castiel chuckled, “no worries, Dean.”

Dean was still blushing but he returned to his work, deigning to ignore the angel for now. After an hour, Dean pocketed the sculpture, hiding it from Castiel’s view, and went to the kitchen to see what he could scrounge up for a meal.

He was half way through grilled cheese and tomato soup when it occurred to him that the angel might want some food as well. It only on rare occasions that Castiel was in the mood for flavored molecules but it tended to happen when the angel was injured.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean called, turning from the counter to see that the angel was no longer in the living room. “Huh.”

The hunter frowned but decided to make Castiel a grilled cheese anyways, figuring he would eat it if the angel didn’t want it.

Dean plated the food and set in on the island before going to find the angel. He had assumed the man would be in the bedroom but frowned when he didn’t see him there. A quick peek in the bathroom showed him that it was empty and the laundry room netted the same results.

The sound of the front door closing led Dean back into the living room where Castiel, angel of the lord, was standing soaked to the bone and shivering. He held his trench coat bundled tight to his chest.

“What the hell,” Dean demanded, darting to the angel.

“He was cold,” Castiel murmured, holding out the bundle to Dean who took it on instinct.

“I repeat, Cas, what the hell?”

Dean unwrapped the bundle and couldn’t help but laugh at the disgruntled look on the cats face. The poor thing was soaked to the bone and yeah, Dean could understand why Cas couldn’t leave him alone.

Normally Dean would already be telling Cas that no, hunters can’t have pets. But he could see the tiniest bit of hope in the angels blue eyes and there was no way in hell Dean was denying him this small bit of joy.

“Let’s get you both dried off,” Dean said after a moment.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Zeppelin was a bizarrely perfect addition to their ragtag little team. He was as equally attached to Dean as he was to Cas and was rarely a foot away from the hunter or the angel. The kitten had taken to riding on Cas’ shoulder, which Dean had gotten a picture of as soon as possible, or sitting on Dean’s lap while the hunter worked.

Dean was grateful to Cas for mo-jo-ing away his allergies; even if he’d told the angel off for it.  

Christmas morning had started with a faceful of fur for Dean and he wasn’t even mad about it. Zeppelin had jumped up onto Dean’s chest sometime around six and it had only taken one sneeze to displace him.

Dean made breakfast for him and Cas before going to wake the angel, refreshingly excited to celebrate the holidays with him. Zeppelin jumped up on the bed next to Cas and kneaded on the angel's chest, purring heavily. Dean smiled at the sight, pulling out his phone for yet another picture.

“Morning Sunshine,” Dean greeted when Cas blinked heavily at him, “Merry Christmas.”

Castiel mumbled something that sounded like ‘mureh chitmus’ making Dean chuckle. He sat on the bed and started rubbing the angel’s arm, trying to ease him into the land of the living.

“I made food,” Dean told the angel, “and I’ve got a present for you.”

The angel reached towards Dean, squishing the cat in the process. “Dean,” he grumbled, his voice still rough with sleep.

“Nuh-uh,” Dean said, “breakfast and presents happen by the tree on Christmas, get your feathery ass out of bed.”

While waiting for the angel to join him in the living room, Zeppelin purring away on his lap, Dean recalled a time when anything domestic had been impossible. Back when this had all been brand new and he hadn’t yet let go of the toxic-masculinity that was John Winchester’s parenting. He’d made more than a few mistakes, hurt Cas more times than he could remember. But now it was easy to wake his partner on the rare occasions that the angel slept. Easy for them to share space and not have it be awkward.

Castiel brought comfort into Dean’s life that he’d been craving since his mom died. Dean knew exactly why he’d fought his feelings for so long but Cas had been patient the entire time, waiting for Dean to be ready.

“Hello, Dean,” the angel greeted, planting a sleepy kiss on the top of Dean’s hair before joining him on the couch, “present?”

“You’re always a grouch after you wake up,” Dean noted with a grin as Cas settled into his side. He picked up the neatly wrapped gift and handed it to his angel.

Cas was infinitely careful with the cheap wrapping job Dean had done. He sliced the tape with a thumbnail and made sure none of the paper ripped.

“Oh,” Cas breathed, looking down at the pair of wings, finished with a distressed white coating. He looked up at Dean with a wide smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle and showed off his teeth, the one that Dean loved. “Dean, it’s beautiful.”

The further away they get from the rest of society the more relaxed the atmosphere in the car became. The Hansen Family Annual Trip to the Cabin was officially underway and Laureen and her small family were finally able to throw off the stress of real life.

“Eva, can you reach the snack bag?” Laureen turned in her seat to look at her _I’m-almost eighteen-Mom_ daughter, “I’d kill for some coke right now.”

“You don’t drink soda mom,” Eva replied with an eye roll. Laureen grinned, pleased at how innocent her child was.

“Cocaine is illegal, darling,” Kevin played along, his hand coming to rest lovingly on her thigh. Michael, their twelve-year-old son, gasped loudly at the joke, alerting them both to the fact that he had woken from his nap.

“That never stopped you before, dear.”

Laureen caught an impressive eye roll from her daughter in the rearview mirror and couldn’t help but grin. Between teaching her own college classes and chauffeuring Michael around there was a severe lack of time spent as a family. Laureen was glad to see that her daughter was still firmly in the teenage years.

“Are we there yet?” Michael asked after a few moments of silence, “I’m bored.”

“Hi bored, I’m Dad,” Kevin replied before making a quick glance at the GPS, “We’ve got just under an hour left, bud.”

“Okay,” Michael replied settling back into his seat, “can I have a cookie, mom?”

“Order up!” Laureen replied, grabbing the Tupperware of no-bakes from the bag. Michael was particular about the foods he ate so she made sure to have his favorites on hand.

She turned to hand him the cookie but Michael’s attention was already elsewhere. He was craning his neck trying to look behind the car, hands flat against the window.

“Custom built 1967 Chevrolet Impala, black exterior with tan interior. Obviously been fixed up a few times but she is _beautiful!_ ” Michael said excitedly in a single breath, “Mom, I want it.”

Laureen blinked at her son before nodding slowly, cookie still held out in his direction. It wasn’t often that Michael got excited so it was both amazing and disorienting when it happened.

“A car?” Eva chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Michael’s hair in exactly the way he hated, “you’re too young for a car, kid.”

Michael glared at Eva, pushing her hand away. “I’m not a kid. I’m 6 months from becoming a teenager.”

“You’re both kids,” Kevin interjected with a snort.

“Do you still want your cookie?” Laureen wondered. Michael snatched it out of her hand in answer, shoving the entire thing into his mouth.

Wham!’s _Last Christmas_ was playing from a CD Laureen had gifted Kevin for their fifth anniversary when they pulled up to the cabin. Her husband was singing along dramatically while Eva begged for the torture to end.

“Did you guys set up the tree before we left?” Michael asked, distracting Laureen from the music.

“Kevin?” Laureen asked, hoping that her husband would say yes— because she definitely hadn’t.

“I didn’t think I had, but I must have,” Kevin said easily.

Laureen nodded slowly before opening her door. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the sight of fresh boot prints in the snow.

“Stay in the car. Kevin; call the cops and stay with the kids.” The energy in the car changed dramatically. Laureen waited long enough to watch Eva grab Michael’s hand before shutting her door and ducking down to grab the switchblade she had taped to the tire well.

With a glance back to make sure her family was safe, Laureen stalked towards the door.

Dean lay on the couch with his head pillowed on Cas’ thigh, the angel’s fingers running through his hair. Zeppelin had claimed his spot on Dean’s stomach with Dean’s hands running through his soft fur.

“Someone is approaching,” Cas said suddenly, startling Dean out of the quiet moment they were having. Zeppelin jumped out of Dean’s lap and scampered down the hall. “Four someones.”

Dean looked at the angel in a moment of panic, trying to figure out what they could do. Cas was in no way ready to zap them out of there and Dean doubted he could carry the angel away from the cabin unnoticed.

“Let’s get you in the closet,” Dean helped the angel stand. When Cas sagged against his side he lifted the angel into his arms and walked to the closet.

“I don’t like being in the closet, Dean,” Castiel grumbled, gripping Dean around the shoulders, “it’s not comfortable in the closet.”

“I know, buddy,” Dean said soothingly as he reluctantly put the angel on the floor. Cas looked up at him with pleading eyes. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle as he bent down and placed a kiss on chapped lips, “at this rate you’ll be in the closet for years, Cas.”  

“Dean—” Cas tried but Dean hushed the angel with one more quick kiss and shut the door gently.

He wasn’t sure how much time he had before the ‘someones’ showed up so he grabbed the first thing he could— a pink Santa Claus statue. The hiding spot Dean wanted was the one beside Cas in the closet. The one he took was behind the front door, poised with the pink Santa ready to strike.

What could have been hours, but was probably minutes, later Dean picked up the loud crunch of snow chains on the snow-covered driveway. He heard the car door shut and practiced feet approaching on the other side of the door. This was a hunter’s cabin?

Dean glanced around the space again, this time noticing the pink rock salt in the corners, wrapped in wires that stood like ornamental trees. He heard light footsteps on the wooden porch and pressed back against the wall, waiting for the door to open.

The knob twisted slowly and the door opened quickly almost hitting Dean’s nose. He waited for the person to step through before lunging at them, his fist striking the side of their face to give him a chance to get them into a choke hold.

The woman was a lot shorter than he was expecting, throwing Dean off balance and allowing her the advantage. Despite being a full foot shorter she managed to grab Dean’s arm and twist, flipping him over her shoulder and onto the hard flooring.

“Who are you?!” She ordered; her boot on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean grabbed the boot on his shoulder and tugged, sending the woman sprawling backward into the wall. He flipped to his feet with a grunt, Santa still gripped tightly in his fist. He held it up threateningly, or as threatening as a pink Santa can be, before answering gruffly, “Winchester.”

“John?” the woman gasped in surprise.

“Dean,” the hunter growled, stepping forward, arm raised to strike, “his son.

The woman’s eyes widened in recognition “Sam’s brother? The one who took Sam away after Jess…” she trailed off.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the woman. Suddenly he remembered seeing a Stanford Diploma in the bedroom he and Cas had been sleeping in. His stomach flipped.

“You went to Stanford,” Dean said, stepping back but not loosening his grip on Santa, “with Sammy?” He let her sit up before asking, “Who are you?”

“Laureen,” the woman replied, “Laureen Hansen.”

“Laureen Whittaker,” Dean corrected her.

“What?”

“On your diploma,” Dean elaborated, “Laureen Whittaker.”

Laureen nodded, “I’m married now. My husband… he’s in the car. Calling the— shit.”

The closet door creaked open, making Dean’s eyes flash to it. Cas was standing, leaning against the door frame.

“Don’t worry,” Cas grunted, “I blocked the signal.”

“Cas,” Dean chided gently. “You don’t have enough energy for that.”

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas said in his usual gravelly voice, “as I said, I blocked the signal.”

“How?” Laureen demanded, “are you some techy hunter?”

“Yes,” Dean replied.

“I’m an angel of the lord,” Cas answered at the same time.

Dean turned to glare at the angel for blowing his cover. There was no reason for them to trust this woman at all especially considering Cas was injured already.

“Dude,” Dean snapped, “what the hell.”

“A- a what?” Laureen stuttered. Her face was pale as she glanced between the two men.

“He’s a priest,” Dean tried to cover, “a really nice priest, could almost say he’s like an angel.”

“No. No, that’s not what he said,” Laureen pointed at Cas, “he said he’s an angel. Angel’s aren’t real.”

“Angels are very real, Laureen,” Cas assured the woman, head tilted to the side, a look Dean had seen Zeppelin replicate, “your parents miss you.”

“Cas,” Dean warned.

“I know you worry about them but they are alive,” Cas continued, ignoring Dean, “we’ve met them before. They are good hunters.”

“I- I’m not,” Laureen tried to speak, she cleared her throat before continuing, “I’m not a hunter—”

“Anymore. I know.” Cas smiled, “I understand why you’d leave the life, Laureen Hansen. Do not worry, we won’t tell Kevin.”     

“Cas,” Dean tried again, getting the angel’s attention this time, “that’s enough man, you’re freaking her out.”

“Oh,” Cas said, studying the woman, “I apologize.”

The three of them turned to face the door as it opened, revealing a middle-aged man with floppy gray hair and thick glasses holding a cell phone in front of him, looking at it like he thought it would explode if handled incorrectly.

“Kevin,” Laureen breathed.

“I know I can't technology but I think the signal is broken,” Kevin handed the phone to Laureen, “Is it the wifi?”

“Kevin,” Laureen said through gritted teeth, “what the hell?”

“What?” Kevin said, looking up from the phone to see the two men and jumping back towards the door.

“Dean helps me with my phone when it doesn’t work, too.” Cas nodded towards Dean. Dean couldn’t help but snort a small laugh.

“Who are you?”

“We went to college with Laureen, here,” Dean lied easily. “I’m Dean, this is Cas.”

“His boyfriend,” Cas added for no reason other than to see Dean’s face turn as red as a candy cane.

“Cas,” Dean groaned, running a hand down his face, “you can’t say shit like that.”

“That’s sweet,” Kevin said with a grin.

“I-we- we’re n—” Dean tried to correct.

“I’m going to go check on the kids,” Laureen interrupted suddenly, looking a little green, “Kevin? Wait here?”

“Of course, darling,” Kevin agreed easily, planting a kiss on Laureen’s forehead before the woman walked outside.

“So,” Dean ventured, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

“So,” Kevin said, losing the easy expression he had when Laureen was there, “what exactly are you folks doing here?”

Cas opened his mouth as if to answer but caught Dean’s warning glare. Dean answered, “we got lost.”

“And you just so happen to know Laureen from college?” Kevin raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“That’s right,” Dean agreed.

“She forgot but she actually asked us to get the cabin ready for your arrival,” Dean said with an easy smile, “We just didn’t finish in time.”

“I thought you got lost?”

“We did,” Dean shrugged, “which is why we didn’t finish in time.”

Dean and Kevin jumped when the door opened while Cas was unaffected. Laureen walked back in followed by a young boy and a teenaged girl. The girl was eyeing them suspiciously while the boy seemed indifferent to their presence.

“Cas, Dean, these are my kids, Eva and Michael,” Laureen introduced, placing her hands protectively on their shoulders, “Eva, Michael, these two are Cas and Dean.”

“They’re dating,” Kevin teased with a grin before pulling his son into a hug, “you okay?”

“Okay,” Michael agreed, “you okay?”

Kevin chuckled, “I’m good, bud.”

Dean smiled at the scene for a moment before turning to Laureen, “we should really be leaving, then.”

“You don’t have a car,” Michael noted, stepping away from his father and towards Dean, “how will you leave without a car?”

“I have a car. She’s just parked… not here.” Dean defended, glaring at the kid.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. He glanced over at Cas, “we really should leave.”

“Don’t be crazy. You set up the cabin for us for the Holidays,” Kevin grinned, “Least we could do is feed you and give you a ride back to wherever it is that you parked your car.”

“Uh—” Dean started only to be interrupted by Cas.  
  
“It would be rude of us to decline.”

“My Baby should be a few miles down the road,” Dean told Kevin while Cas said goodbye to Laureen and Eva, who was now cradling Zeppelin in her arms. The girl had fallen in love with the kitten and Cas had graciously accepted that the hunting life was not conducive to pet ownership.

“Cas, you ready?” Dean called over to the angel. Cas nodded, pet Zeppelin one last time, and walked over to where Dean and Kevin were waiting.

“Can I come?” Michael asked from the front door. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and no shoes on.

“Sure thing, bud,” Kevin agreed with a smile, “but this is a no shoes no service kind of car, you know that.” Michael quickly shoved his feet into a discarded pair of his father’s boots that were about four sizes too big and got into the car.

“Quite the kid you got there,” Dean chuckled, opening the door so that Cas could climb into the back. Dean shut the door after placing a quick kiss on Cas’ forehead and got into the front with Kevin.

The drive to the Impala passed quick with Michael’s commentary on the mechanics of the Lancia-Abarth Triflux. Dean was very impressed with the kid and almost wished he could spend more time with him.

Michael’s commentary came to an abrupt halt as Dean pointed out the Impala and Kevin pulled up next to it.

“No way,” Michael gushed, “she’s your car?”

“That’s my Baby,” Dean beamed, “built her up myself.”

“She’s perfect,” Michael said, looking between Dean and the Impala in awe.

A sudden wave of nostalgia overcame Dean as he remembered a similar conversation he’d had with his son, Ben. He and the kid had spent a few hours with the car before Dean had ultimately hidden her away in order to fit in with Lisa’s life.

“Dean?” Cas questioned, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “are you okay?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah. We should, uh, we should go. Get back to Sammy.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas agreed with a soft smile, “let’s go home.”

The hunter and the angel exited the car and moved to their own beloved vehicle. Dean checked the car for any scratches, pleased to find none, before sliding behind the wheel. He grinned over at Cas, glad to be back in his happy place, in _his_ car next to _his_ angel.

“Hey, Dean?” Cas asked seriously before Dean could pull off the shoulder.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Does this mean we’re not allowed to kiss anymore?”

Dean chuckled at Cas’ pout before pulling the angel into a kiss, “I will never stop kissing you.”

Dean kissed Cas again, his soft lips on the perpetually chapped lips. It was gentle and loving, their lips pressed together and their eyes closed to the world, completely in love. Dean’s hand was on the angel’s stubbled jaw, his thumb gently grazing over the raised hair. Cas rested his hand on Dean’s wrist, unsure of what else to do in his total bliss.

The kiss finally broke and Dean pressed their foreheads together. Their eyes locked and Dean’s crinkled as he smiled. “Ready to go home?”


End file.
